tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62252245761219235622024-03-06T11:59:47.891+05:30Resurrection of HappinessThe crusade of the imperfect boyPassion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-5647311952230128962021-08-25T01:23:00.004+05:302021-08-25T01:23:36.717+05:30Lost<div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 16px;">I am lost,<br /></span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 16px;">Like a note in a corked bottle;<br /></span>And thrown into the ocean,<br />Wanting to be found<br />By the sailor singing for home,<br />And burnt in the hearth,<br />To rise like the phoneix,<br />From the blown away ash<span style="color: white;">es</span></span></div>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-9677873314009306032020-04-04T19:54:00.006+05:302020-04-04T20:02:01.769+05:30Becoming<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 26px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>To take mossy, forgotten pathways</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Some roads are lost to be found</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>To take detours, stop a while to stay</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>To find yourself, infinite and unbound</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i></i></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>1:27 AM; Balcony</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b></b></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Aakash lit up a cigarette. He needed to clear off his mind before writing to Sreya. The rudeness in Sreya’s text did make him feel bad. And he was perplexed; “Why am I hurt?”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b></b></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Any other day, any other girl, a response like that, and Aakash would have never turned back again. He tried the same with Sreya, but he couldn’t turn a blind eye to her, he couldn’t ignore her. His thoughts went back to her dreamy eyes, her addictive smile. Draped in saree, she was the most elegant beauty in the entire wedding. Aakash do not remember the bride, or the groom. But he does remember Sreya’s every bit today. This is not the usual Aakash. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">He has been thinking about her all throughout the evening; he is thinking about her now. After her response, he was hurt, but that did not prevent his thoughts, and the “feel good” feeling that her thoughts brought along. The more her words circled in his head, the more good feeling it gave him. More than the rudeness, he was happy that Sreya responded. This is a feeling Aakash never experienced, this is some uncharted territory that his emotions are flowing through.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>1:30 AM; Balcony; <i>Aakash is typing</i></b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b></b></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">“I am sorry, Sreya! I do feel bad behaving in such a way; and I do apologise for that. I do respect girls; today I had a strong temptation to talk to you, never ever I did such an act before. Sorry again :)”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Wow! Was it Aakash who wrote that message? Neither could Aakash believe what he wrote. He wanted to respond with a strong message, befitting response to her for judging him without knowing him. A punch on her face for concluding about his nature. The more he thought about her, his feelings gradually turned from rage, then feeling guilty and then to an unknown emotion. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Aakash imagined her embarrassed expression when he approached her, it made him feel bad. He imagined her furious face, “She looked very cute being angry! Her expressive eyes were more sweet than the rosogolla!” He is feeling a void inside his chest, lost in his thoughts. He was unmindful of the moonlight casting a silvery spell on the dark road in front of his balcony. He was unmindful of the scent of the jasmines that adored the entire neighbourhood, or the white cotton like clouds that were floating in the sky. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">This is spring. Aakash is missing Sreya!</span></div>
</div>
</div>
Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-41315971753673361152020-03-29T21:20:00.001+05:302020-03-29T21:20:52.748+05:30Being<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 26px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<i style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px;">To break out, like the waves at sea</i></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>To fly happily, like the yellow butterfly</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i></i></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>12:55 AM; Sreya’s bed</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b></b></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">“<i>Its okay, did not expect that you will stalk me and then apologise for that! Be a little more respectful next time.</i>”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">“Shit! I did not mean to be rude.” After the 20th attempt, Sreya drafted the text. She was not able to understand how she should respond. She was feeling good inside that Aakash texted her, but was not able to comprehend why she felt that way. At the same time, she was a bit disappointed also for his behaviour, earlier in the evening. She was unable to get in terms with her feelings.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">With mixed emotions, this was all that she could respond. It was rude. “I don't know if he will respond to me. He is already an arrogant boy. My text will definitely hurt his ego! Should I apologise with a second text?”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Sreya is a beautiful girl, by appearance as well as by her personality. But she never took advantage of that. A lot of boys had approached her since her school days. She never liked anyone and was strong to express herself so that those guys never bothered her again. She never ever thought about love or her feelings. But this time, it was different. She could not understand why she was feeling bad, being rude to Aakash. She could not understand why she was feeling good, thinking about Aakash.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Sreya tried to divert herself and started thinking about the anatomy class next day. “I like anatomy, the lectures, the professor, my batchmates. I liked this evening. I liked when Aakash messaged me. Wait what?” Her thoughts have again drifted towards Aakash. “What is happening to my senses?”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>1:30 AM; Balcony</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">For the last 10 minutes, Sreya was fighting with herself. She was constantly thinking, if Aakash would respond or not. Next moment, she wanted to smash his face, for being a disrespectful and arrogant boy. Again the next moment - “It was so sweet of him to apologise. Oh, so is he stalking me?” Her thoughts constantly went back to his cherry red shirt. “He was looking smart, and sweet? I find a boy to be sweet!!” Her head was thumping now. “Why is he not responding? How long should I wait?”</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">The next moment, Sreya decided to text him, against her nature. She will apologise for being rude, and then would block him. She does not want her focus to be diverted. She reached out for her phone, opened the app and saw, <i>Aakash typing….</i></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 16px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i></i></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Sreya waited for him to finish, with butterflies in her stomach.. the yellow ones, her favourite. </span></div>
</div>
</div>
Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-71948467761172297662020-03-10T01:40:00.000+05:302020-03-10T01:40:10.716+05:30Hope<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<h2>
<i><span lang="EN-IN" style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The moonbeam wounding the forest dark; <br />
the night’s reticence ruffled by a skylark</span></i><span lang="EN-IN" style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></h2>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">11:30 PM; Desolated broadways<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The car’s engine and the headlight
were the only two animated objects breaking the silence along the never engine
stretch of the highway. The silver moonlight through the roadside trees casted
a hallucinating effect; the orangish red light of the car’s dashboard added to
the illusive ambience; the speedometer clocked 115 kph. Perfect setup, but
today Aakash was not mindful of this platonic atmosphere!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Some 100 KMs from his home, Aakash’s
parents cajoled him to attend the wedding, with the promise of good food at the
reception. Aakash loved weddings – for the food; and for the girls draped in
sarees. He was checking out the girls, when he saw Sreya. The moment was
ethereal. He immediately started crushing on her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He followed her all throughout the
evening, ordered the mint flavoured blues lagoon – he hated mint – with hope
that she will notice him. When nothing worked, he approached her, and casually
asked for a date. Aakash never dared to go to this extent with any of his
crushes. He was content to check them out from a distant. But this time it was
different.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Aakash was remorse. He was feeling
guilty of committing such an act. He is very respectful of girls, but somehow,
tonight, he could not control his emotions. With guilt prevailing, he drove on,
not mindful of his surroundings. His home was not too far away now. He wanted
to reach as soon as possible and be left alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">12:20
AM; Balcony <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">After reaching home, the first thing
he did was to search for Sreya in Facebook and drop her an apology. He could
sense her anger and embarrassment, but this is the best thing he could do now.
He was wondering why he was feeling so much remorse, why he was frequently
checking his mobile and hoping for a response from Sreya. “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why do I want to talk to you so much? Why do I want another opportunity
to see you and have a memorable conversation?” </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He checked his mobile again. Sreya has
read the message, but he is not expecting her to respond. This is making Aakash
all the more remorse. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“What she might be
thinking about me? Will she reply to my message? Will she burst out?” </i>Aakash
wanted her to burst out, he will feel better and will be his salvation his
immature behaviour. The streetlights were not glowing, they have also desolated
him. The tree looked darker and solitary against the feeble moonlight. Aakash
was feeling lonely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-IN" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He checked his messenger again. His
heart got filled with a mixed emotion of happiness, anxiety, fear when he saw –
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sreya is typing</i>. Hope is not lost. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br /></div>
Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-20968731208633667732020-02-29T23:22:00.000+05:302020-02-29T23:25:31.037+05:30Flaw<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The soft crease on an ironed
shirt<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The gentle sputter when a motor
starts<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The fog cutting through spring
mornings<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The guilt hidden in the noblest
of heart<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">12:20 AM; Sreya’s room<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“How cheap of him to ask me out on the very first day!!” Sreya was
furious. She was literally shaking with anger when that boy – “what was his
name? Yes, Akash” – casually came and offered a date. “How could he?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“He was constantly checking me out.” Sreya tried to ignore him the
entire evening, but his eyes were following her wherever she was going. “Even
he deliberately asked for mint flavored blue lagoon when I ordered one at the
mock tail counter. He was stalking me!!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Angry and exhausted, Sreya took the phone from her bedside table &
opened Facebook. “What the bloody hell! He has dared to send me friend request
on Facebook so soon!” She saw a notification in her messenger, she could not
believe her eyes! There is even a message from Akash. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sreya has had enough. She is not going to tolerate this. She has
already decided to find out who he is from her family and going to let this
incident known to all. She will embarrass him in front of everyone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This guy, with his somewhat long messy hair and rimless spects, was following
her. He was wearing moccasin, sign of a lazy person. He cherry red color shirt’s
sleeves were folded absent-mindedly; who folds sleeves on a formal occasion?! “No
dressing sense”. He kept biting his nails, “so unhygienic! How could he think
that he could speak to me? That also ask me out on the very first day? Send me
friend request and message me on messenger?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sreya was furious. She kept aside her phone and closed her eyes to
compose herself. “messy hair, rimless spects, moccasin, cherry red shirt, absent
mindedly folded sleeves – WHAT THE HELL!” How did she notice so much? “When did
I notice so much?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“This guy don’t even know how to speak to a lady”. Aakash was direct in
his approach. He came to Sreya and said, “I have been seeing you the entire
evening; how “unreal” you look in that pinkish saree of yours’. I would like to
have a chance of seeing you “real”, maybe in a salwar suit or jeans.” This was the
pickup line. Sreya, being a near perfect idealistic girl, beautiful & descent,
was furious in no time. He straightaway told Aakash to get lost. To this Aakash
responded, “I have already lost myself”, turned towards his old, undusted car
and drove off.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sreya reran the entire evening in her mind. She suddenly jolted back to
her senses. “Was I noticing him as well? How could I know what type of shoes he
was wearing?” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is not a single
quality of Aakash that Sreya liked. But she did notice him. Her subconscious was
playing with her. Her mind has stopped working, she doesn’t want to think any
further. “He sent me a message. Let me see.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She opened the message, it read “Sorry, I think I was being casual. I
should have been more respectful while talking to you”.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not everything with Aaksh is a FLAW.</div>
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</div>
Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-15028805314966698792011-04-19T22:54:00.000+05:302011-04-19T22:54:53.454+05:30Silence of the Lambs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A silent night lit only by the moonlight; dark open fields on both sides of the road, sometimes rows of unknown trees with flashes of glittering silver on their leaves; and an unknown road under the full moon. Feel the air blowing through the hair. Lavishly elegant!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Sunday evvening @ 8:30PM.</b> Stereotyped and lazy Sunday evening. Aakash had nothing do but wonder what to do. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Same evening @ 9PM. </b>He was travelling at 50kmph on a bike along the unbent stretch of the highway. He and his friend took a fulminant decision to travel on some unknown roads. And so here they are, uncertain of the end of their unknown errand. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">When should we turn back”, </i>his friend asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“See that distant road over there? We turn when that road meets ours”, </i>replied Aakash through the rattling wind.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">20mins into the journey, the road is becoming more and more marooned, and the journey exciting. Never before had Aakash gone on such a trip. He had only dreamed of something like this. An unruffled road, silent and spooky fields and a beautiful moon with chunks of white clouds surrounding it; the feeling is unexplainable. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“You have to travel it to understand it.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">10 more minutes. They crossed a junction void of any human presence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Going by the number of shops and an empty bus terminus, it can be easily said that it must be a busy place on normal days. But today it is nothing more than a forgotten territory. They stopped at a detour to ask the only human present what place that was. Aakash found it difficult to remember the name, so he decided not to try it. They lighted two cigars. There was a statue of some unknown and strange figure with his arms stretched at the juncture of the diversion. It appeared that the place was waiting for them. It was terribly silent and freakishly beautiful. Almost 9:45 and they decided, somewhat reluctantly, to turn back. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">@ 10:10PM. </b>They reached their hostel. It always happens that the return journey seems to take much shorter time after a beautiful trp. Today was no different. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“In our monotonous life, when we make vagabond excursions like this, we realize that life, in simple words, is good.” </i>Somewhere, deep in his heart, Aakash was missing Sreya!!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div></div>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-22049965789520633012011-01-31T00:17:00.011+05:302011-02-02T23:35:23.349+05:30Reminiscence<p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><u>Sunday, 30<sup>th</sup> January, 2011 – Chennai</u></span></b></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><strong><u><span style="font-family:Calibri;"></span></u></strong></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><strong><u><span style="font-family:Calibri;"></span></u></strong></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><u></u></span></p><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><u>11:40PM:</u> <em><strong>“Today, when I look from a distance, the things that I have left behind seems larger than life”</strong></em> – this has been Aakash’s best line for the last few months; and perhaps his worst time. Today he sits alone with his laptop, waiting for friends to ping him, or waiting for someone to reply to his ping. But his wait is never over. <em>“Will it ever get over?”<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></em></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><u><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Wednesday, 25<sup>th</sup> August, 2010 – Chennai<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><u>11:00PM: </u>Another hard day at office. Tired and drenched, Aakash returned home about 5 minutes back. He eluded his mom’s evening call. He thought to call her back after he has completed his work. But he forgot. He always forgets! <o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><em>“Oh shit, Sreya!! I have to call Sreya. There were 12 missed calls from her. She must be waiting.”</em> This is their seventh patch up phase. Distance had separated them and ultimately they broke off. After a break of one and a half months, they decided to patch up again. And what the mess he has made today. <em>“I will never learn to maintain relationships!!”</em> he groaned. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>Without wasting any time he dials her number. One full ring, no answer. Immediately he redials. Sreya picks up this time and in a sleepy voice says <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“Aakash, you returned?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Relaxed by her calm voice, he replied: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“Yes. Sorry I couldn’t call you today. Was having very tough time at office. “<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>:<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"> “I know. At least you could have called aunty. She was much tensed.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aakash</b>: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“She called you?”</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“Yes, only to find out whether you had called or not. Okay Aakash, I am very sleepy. Will hang up now. Talk to you tomorrow. And call aunty <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">NOW</b>. She is waiting for your call.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aakash</b>: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“Okay I will. Bye. Goodnight.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“Bye.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><u>11:15 PM: </u><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“Hello Ma. Sorry I forgot to call you.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Ma</b>: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“No problem son. But don’t forget these small things. It will affect your relationships.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">..<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">..<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">..<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><u><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Friday, 24<sup>rd</sup> September, 2010 – Still in Chennai</span></u></b></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><u>2:00AM:</u><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">..<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">..<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: (sobs) <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“…this is the third consecutive day that you didn’t call me.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aakash</b>: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“I really forgot. Work has become so hectic. I didn’t get any time at all. See I haven’t changed my clothes till now.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“Today also you would have forgotten to call me if I hadn’t. <o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aakash</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">No. I was about to call you.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Aakash, don’t lie.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aakash</b>: (silent)<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">See I can understand that you are having tough time at office. But please give at least 5 minutes for your family and friends. You even forget to call aunty!! When will you become responsible? When will you start caring for your loved ones?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aakash</b>: (somewhat annoyed)”<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"> See Sreya who told you that I don’t love or care for my family and friends? Is it necessary to show?” </i><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Yes it is. These small gestures build up relationships.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aakash</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">I don’t understand you. Why do you always have to boss me in this matter?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Because you are still immature.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aakash</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Maybe. And that is why it is getting difficult for me to maintain relationship with you. It is not possible for me to take extra burdens of routine calls. This distance is causing all the problems. See Sreya, I agree I forget to call you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you or care for you. And also I can’t promise to call you every time. If you can stay with me like this, then okay. It is getting difficult for me to continue this long distance relationship. “<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Are you breaking up with me again?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aakash</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Maybe, yes. At least as long as I don’t return to Kolkata.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Aakash, you are pathetic. You are selfish and mean. I hate you.” <o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Sreya cuts the phone and immediately Aakash realizes that he has crossed all limits. He cannot undo what he has done and also Sreya won’t listen to him now. She has been terrific all these days after their patch up. She understood, never fought with him. It was Aakash only who used to fight with her. And now he has messed up everything. He lost her, again. <o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><u><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Monday, 27<sup>th</sup> December, 2010 – Kolkata (somewhere along the bank of Ganga)<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><u>Twilight: </u>After a never ending wait of fifteen minutes, Sreya came and sat beside him. Aakash is on vacation leave and after some grueling efforts he has managed to convince Sreya to meet him for at least half an hour. After their final fight, they have spoken only thrice, the last one being Aakash’s effort to convince her to meet him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aakash</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">I am sorry Sreya. I shouldn’t have told you all those rubbish things.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Aakash, no use of your sorry now. I have decided. You will be better without me. At least ‘<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya headache’</b> will go off your head. You won’t have the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">‘extra burden” </b>of that <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">’routine call’</b>.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aakash</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Please Sreya don’t speak like that. I am here to mend everything for the final time.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">That’s what you told on our last patch up.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Aakash</b>: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“umm… Sreya…”</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Sreya</b>: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“Aakash let me get this clear. I am not ready to patch up with you now. I love you and I don’t want to disrespect it with words like ‘<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">burden</b>’ and ‘<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">routine calls’</b>. It is very tough for me to say this, but I mean it. You asked me to wait for you till you return. I will wait for you. You need not maintain long distance relationships anymore. Till then, goodbye.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Aakash had nothing to say. He saw her royal blue dupatta disappear with the setting sun. The surrounding is becoming dark. Aakash sat there, alone. His folly has overcome his emotions.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"><u><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Present day and time – Chennai <o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">No reply from Sreya. Everyday Aakash pings her, eagerly expecting her something to say. But in vain. Today he is alone. The calls he thought to be <strong><em>“routines”</em></strong> were actually solace that he used to find after office. He has lost his solace, his love. Her sweet and charming voice at day’s end used to give him peace. All because of his incapability to maintain long distance relationships, he lost everything. Today he stares blankly at the white window of his chat box with a little picture of smiling Sreya at the left most corner of the window.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Hey, someone pinged… The tab read, “<strong><em>New Message from Sreya</em></strong>”<o:p></o:p></span></p>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-55244589119427947692009-05-19T23:05:00.007+05:302009-05-20T00:19:47.736+05:30Token of Love<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Time: </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">4:30 PM </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"> Place:</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"> Airport</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">....this is the last and final call for passengers of Flight No. 0934...<br /><br /></span>Sreya reluctantly walked towards the boarding counter to collect her boarding pass.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span>She was going to Delhi at her maternal uncle's place for a month.<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>She wont be seeing Aakash for such a long period. She had dearly wished that Aakash would show up at the airport. He had promised to come and see her off when she apprised him about her vacation. She had childishly asked for a rose on the D-day, as a symbol of retention. But last night they had a fight. For reason unknown to her, Aakash was behaving rudely. <span style="font-weight: bold;">"Perhaps, he was</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">a bit upset as i wont be with him for a month," </span>thought Sreya. It is normal in love, though. But she never had thought that Aakash wouldnot turn up. She sought for him for the final time amidst the crowd. There was no sign of him. Dejected, she headed towards the boarding counter where her parents were waiting for her.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Time:</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"> 4:45 PM </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Place:</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"> City Hospital</span><br /><br />Aakash tried his best to get up from the hospital bed. He tried his best to open his eyes. He needed to go to the airport. Sreya must be waitng for him. But he couldn't.<br /><br />Two bottles of blood were given to Aakash. There were injuries all over his body. His right ulna has broken into three pieces and his ankle has been dislocated. His condition was critical. If it had been a few more minutes late in bringing him, he would have been lost forever. It was a terrible accident. Actually he was heading towards the airport. When he got down from the bus he remembered about the rose he had promised. Luckily, he found a flower shop nearby. He got himself a beautiful red rose. <span style="font-weight: bold;">"Sreya will be more than happy," </span>he thought. He was bit upset with himself for fighting with her last night. Actually, he didn't want to believe that he wont be seeing or speaking to her for a whole month. He knew that his thinking was wrong. But still he was unable to refrain himself form thinking so.<br /><br />Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice that he was onto to the roads. There was no chance for the taxi's driver to break. It hit him severely, which left him unconscious.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Time:</span> twilight <span style="font-weight: bold;">Place:</span> Near the accid</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">ent spot</span><br /><br />The little beggar-girl found a red rose left carelessly near the pavement. Stains of blood were on its leaves. Nevertheless, she picked it up. It was the first time that she was holding such a pretty flower in her small dirty hands. She had only seen them at the shop across the road. She proudly held it high. The sky had taken a beautiful hue of sepia. A plane flew by in the background. The rose was really looking beautiful.Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-2455628877834373732009-05-12T16:27:00.007+05:302009-05-17T10:12:15.772+05:30a pleasant morning.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaS9Z9WYtVASZ_UPljq5u-nq33NqDQCncU-3sPEBDCXsAOsHi3SGQw81XECtyVOuWxLeCEhXuW9h6aRNcOWICWHsezsyMAmym8ZwsTZBqVntoMLOryU4_yAM1JWrRLLvwZP0I4QBz7dO9n/s1600-h/1223629086099.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaS9Z9WYtVASZ_UPljq5u-nq33NqDQCncU-3sPEBDCXsAOsHi3SGQw81XECtyVOuWxLeCEhXuW9h6aRNcOWICWHsezsyMAmym8ZwsTZBqVntoMLOryU4_yAM1JWrRLLvwZP0I4QBz7dO9n/s400/1223629086099.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334890256229617378" border="0" /></a><br />It is a pleasant morning <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Aakash</span> woke up to. The sun is shining brightly against the light blue canvass. The sky is clear, with patches of white clouds sailing here and there. It had rained last night. The air is full of freshness. The plants in the field has covered themselves with a fresh blanket of flowers. The squirrels are running here and there. There is the mother bird, feeding her "all time" hungry chicks. A rainbow has formed in the distant sky, but it is not very distinct. Patches of water...... <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">o <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">haseena</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">zulfon</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">waali</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">jaane</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">jahan</span>....</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>The shrill sound of his mobile phone's alarm broke his dream. It is the third day in a row that this has happened. Somehow, he cannot complete his <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">dream</span>, nor can he live it!!!<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Aakash</span> got out of his bed. Yeah it is morning, but a gloomy one. All he could see were dark clouds hovering over. It had rained <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">frightfully</span> last night. Everything around is still wet. He glanced over his lone seasonal flowering plant. No!! No flowers still!! He is not sure how much longer he has to wait for a flower. Two street dogs are barking at a beggar. Perhaps he tried to steal some food which were meant for those dogs!!! <span style="font-style: italic;">"A mother bird feeding her chicks"</span>, he recalled his dream. Can he find something like that?? Oh, forget it!! There are no space in this jungle of concrete for a bird to nest!!! Perhaps he can sight a rainbow. No such luck either!! His day thus commenced. Again a day full of tensions, expectations, desires, hopes and finally<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>their downfall.<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;">"I wish i could live in my dreams," </span>he murmured.Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-82502528763746162642009-05-01T23:33:00.008+05:302009-05-17T10:12:54.028+05:30The most anticipated call...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhmoj83GXbwpzpd9YKqp3Bdbal8kwwoFtpbAdwZNFtuT1UyilMV-xTzRY2-ZT6rhB5av7Fs1zc_W0HojCNlEVZ7sd7WV2Y0qPceIcSt1u1pUhk51Vvzq2LdvHR6YA9QzIsSBq5L9Ts9mMd/s1600-h/nobody-chair-komplot-alone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhmoj83GXbwpzpd9YKqp3Bdbal8kwwoFtpbAdwZNFtuT1UyilMV-xTzRY2-ZT6rhB5av7Fs1zc_W0HojCNlEVZ7sd7WV2Y0qPceIcSt1u1pUhk51Vvzq2LdvHR6YA9QzIsSBq5L9Ts9mMd/s400/nobody-chair-komplot-alone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330924384253973970" border="0" /></a><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">. . .<br /> . . .<br /> . . .<br /> Aakash: </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">…..its better we go in our own ways den!!</span></span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Sreya:</span> Dats the best thing u can say.. I knew it all the time.. (sobs)</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> I thought that you would become a bit more responsible..</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Aakash:</span> Where is responsibility coming over here?</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Sreya:</span> Forget it.. Goodbye..</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;">After 3 months or so…</span></span><br /><br />Another morning Aakash woke up with dreamy eyes. It has been over a week that insomnia has engulfed his nights. He just can’t get her off his mind. She just comes into his thoughts and he can’t help it. In fact, he likes it. He likes thinking about her.<br /><br />Actually Aakash and Sreya started seeing each other around 7 months earlier. They had met each other at a wedding ceremony. As usual Aakash was busy scanning the beautiful bongs that thronged the place. In an ethereal moment, he saw Sreya. Immediately, he began harbouring a crush on her. So it all started with a crush! After a few days, they went for a date, though the girl was a bit reluctant at first. But nevertheless, she went. Actually she had also developed a liking for him. Their dates went up in numbers day by day. Sreya was deeply in love with him. But Aaksh was never really serious about her. He was a guy with a very fickle mind. He never really gave any serious thinking on any matter. So the day she expressed her feelings, Aakash was perplexed. He did not know whether he loved her or not. After all it was just another crush. Just another!!!! He was not at all ready to take up the responsibility of love!!!<br /><br />Things are different now. He knows that he loves her. He misses her. He misses her dainty smile, her lovely eyes, her feathery hands and above all her charming and lovingness character. Sreya is the best girl he could have ever find, if not the perfect. But it is too late to realize that. He has hurt her so very much. He can’t forget those sobbing eyes on the day they broke off. Its was all due to Aakash.<br /><br />Late may be, but he decides to give her a call and apologize. Maybe she wont forgive, but at least he would know that. It was his first call in three months. He dials her number. The phone rings…<br /><br /> <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sreya:</span> (somewhat perplexed tone) Hello!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Aaksh:</span> Hi Sreya! </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Sreya:</span> A pleasant surprise Aakash! Never in my nightmares I thought that u would call me!!</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Aakash:</span> Even I had never thought so. How are u?</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Sreya:</span> Just getting used to a life without you!!</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Aakash:</span> (speechless)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sreya:</span> So why did u call?<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Aakash:</span> I wanted to apologize.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Sreya:</span> You what!!!!!! Are u kidding?</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Aakash:</span> No Sreya. I am serious. I am sorry that I hurt u so much!</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">I was not ready to take up the responsibility of love.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Sreya:</span> I know that Aakash...</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Aakash:</span> I…I think that I love you.. Can we patch up Sreya? I miss you a lot.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Sreya:</span> I always knew you loved me. It was you who didn't. You still haven’t changed, Aakash</span>. <span style="font-style: italic;"> Now u miss me, you want to patch up. </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> But where were you when I needed you? </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> You didn’t even bothered to find out how I was doing!!</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Aakash:</span> I.. I thought you would be better without me.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Sreya:</span> Who asked you to think so much!!! Frankly Aakash, </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> its too late now for a patch up.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Aakash:</span> Cant you reconsider your decision? </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> Give me a call if you change ur decision.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Sreya:</span> Sure I shall. But don’t expect it. I have moved on.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Aaksh:</span> Moved on?? Still, I shall wait. Bye. Take care.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Sreya:</span> Bye Aakash. You take care 2. And be happy with your life.</span><br /><br /><br />That night, Aakash received the most anticipated and beautiful call of his entire life!! It was from Sreya.Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-77455693481079436762009-04-30T20:54:00.004+05:302009-05-12T16:26:33.585+05:30Yes, we can.. If we want 2<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzClMtouOJZ_QLcB75xGuqSFccBnqVkm107BaC9qPE2VQsyaxEbZ4SNX-1iRE1CdzTPknlY8OYX95J25i2OSA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-17711456278737170532009-04-30T12:29:00.006+05:302009-05-12T16:26:46.161+05:30The value of Rs. 500<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyrwA84-LwcihEVtUqLlyM-n-dMX9WmEdgW3LphMY0H3NX91AGr6WDQ8sfeiJIQhOl9SdqAE-7SPYkdmZj7' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Worth giving a thought, isnt it?</span>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-45540171254404410262009-04-28T23:29:00.002+05:302009-04-30T21:01:56.287+05:30Elegy Written In A Country Churchyard<span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" > A masterpiece by Thomas Grey</span><b><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The plowman homeward plods his weary way,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> And leaves the world to darkness and to me.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> And all the air a solemn stillness holds,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> And drowsy tinkling lull the distant folds:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The moping owl does to the moon complain</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Molest her ancient solitary reign.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Where heaves the turf in many a moldering heap,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Or busy housewife ply her evening care:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> No children run to lisp their sire's return,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share,</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> How jocund did they drive their team afield!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The short and simple annals of the Poor.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Awaits alike th' inevitable hour:-</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The paths of glory lead but to the grave.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Nor you, ye Proud, impute to these the fault</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Can storied urn or animated bust</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> And froze the genial current of the soul.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Full many a gem of purest ray serene</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> And waste its sweetness on the desert air.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The little tyrant of his fields withstood,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Th' applause of list'ning senates to command,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The threats of pain and ruin to despise,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> And read their history in a nation's eyes,</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Their lot forbad: nor circumscribed alone</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Forbad to wade through slaughter to a throne,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> And shut the gates of mercy on mankind,</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Along the cool sequester'd vale of life</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Some frail memorial still erected nigh,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd Muse,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> The place of fame and elegy supply:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> And many a holy text around she strews,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> That teach the rustic moralist to die.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> On some fond breast the parting soul relies,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Some pious drops the closing eye requires;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Dost in these lines their artless tale relate;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> If chance, by lonely contemplation led,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, --</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Haply some hoary-headed swain may say,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> "Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Brushing with hasty steps the dews away,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> To meet the sun upon the upland lawn;</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> "There at the foot of yonder nodding beech</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> His listless length at noontide would he stretch,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> And pore upon the brook that babbles by.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> "Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Or crazed with care, or cross'd in hopeless love.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> "One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Along the heath, and near his favourite tree;</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Another came; nor yet beside the rill,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he;</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> "The next with dirges due in sad array</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne,-</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn."</span><br /></b><p> </p><dl><dd><dl><dd><span style="font-size:130%;"><b><i>The Epitaph</i></b></span></dd></dl></dd></dl> <p style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> <b><i>Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth<br />A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.<br />Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,<br />And Melacholy marked him for her own.<br /><br />Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,<br />Heaven did a recompense as largely send:<br />He gave to Misery all he had, a tear,<br />He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend.<br /><br />No farther seek his merits to disclose,<br />Or draw his frailties from their dread abode<br />(There they alike in trembling hope repose),<br />The bosom of his Father and his God.</i></b></p>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-19948288559746259902009-04-26T23:26:00.008+05:302009-05-12T16:27:04.553+05:30We, the people... have forgot to love our nation!!!Selfishness, delusion, hallucination, reverie and hatred has become the spinal cord of our lovely nation.. Where ever u we want to see happiness, we find grief.. We search for success, we find failures.. We search for solace, we find hatred.. Oh my lord!! Save thy people.. We have forgot to love, to share, to care.. We have been engulfed by some unknown giant, who seeks to meet their selfish needs.. I wish to jot down a poem which i had read in my skul days.. Maybe that will help to make some room for reconciliation..<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high..</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">Where knowledge is free...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">Where words come out from the depth of truth..</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection...</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit..</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action--</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake..<br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bless us, my LORD !!!</span>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-74563153456528993402009-04-10T23:56:00.020+05:302009-05-17T10:13:14.204+05:30Of times; then and now...<span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">COLLEGE</span></span><br /><br />Life dat was.... College life is one of those periods where we either make or break.. Whatever we may become, it is surely a golden period..<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1fxHbq349Hrh_T1ltaig1AorPnP3ayjdtZv2Ksq8EYuGYh6MkWe_2GyrbXEA3Cuf46-p88vapK7NbGXDEYeWqB9bCNUYUp6JzrL0bTTdOWuWFoIYWiKFhOlvAiTgzwzNlh9UFtC1tr8u/s1600-h/CollegeFriends.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 251px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1fxHbq349Hrh_T1ltaig1AorPnP3ayjdtZv2Ksq8EYuGYh6MkWe_2GyrbXEA3Cuf46-p88vapK7NbGXDEYeWqB9bCNUYUp6JzrL0bTTdOWuWFoIYWiKFhOlvAiTgzwzNlh9UFtC1tr8u/s400/CollegeFriends.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323132786479983506" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">DAT SMALL LITTLE GROUP</span></span><br /><br />Then i found that small little group.. We shared and cared, laughed and cried, ran and walked.. We found solace among ourselves..<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yG3q6bigDgoBf44axwV4AUPWaCiA9KMd0Yyw0Y_bvi4Oen9woDC2v8O2X7eCaS-H1KtgaVViEs0AoWk_lfGPTNTayPrzPhS2gwzwL0tirqbuViccIwJfPaxsd-vtqzg3jg89tdiPcEtW/s1600-h/New+Folder.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yG3q6bigDgoBf44axwV4AUPWaCiA9KMd0Yyw0Y_bvi4Oen9woDC2v8O2X7eCaS-H1KtgaVViEs0AoWk_lfGPTNTayPrzPhS2gwzwL0tirqbuViccIwJfPaxsd-vtqzg3jg89tdiPcEtW/s400/New+Folder.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323135092296857266" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;font-family:webdings;font-size:180%;" >MOMENTS OF MIRTHFULNESS</span><br /><br />Few moments leave ever lasting impressions.. I just pray to return at dose times, only to be denied by shrewd and harsh reality..<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSkFHWj-UfCBwBrQqtp6IPlJ-1MyF46hIpGXIPFr9P9SZTSpNzH3Awz6iosTFEfUIEvdP_L7CwgT7Jq3FXEVoIwKBqyG1RIauSYljSYgLS7GHQNN69-3eN8MqdXXj9b4rR7-q8gokZFop/s1600-h/MyMemoirs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSkFHWj-UfCBwBrQqtp6IPlJ-1MyF46hIpGXIPFr9P9SZTSpNzH3Awz6iosTFEfUIEvdP_L7CwgT7Jq3FXEVoIwKBqyG1RIauSYljSYgLS7GHQNN69-3eN8MqdXXj9b4rR7-q8gokZFop/s400/MyMemoirs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323136021155404914" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;" >THEN THAT MEMORABLE EXCURSION</span><br /><br />Call it an excursion or an "arranged by the students" college trip, i take it as u say.. Coz no other memory in the world makes me more nostalgic than this one.. I miss the trip a hell lot..<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAUC802d8DY5Bj3GWj5p5eFljf3PgQqLt4VHbMp9wrPiEBMoS3g4c3oKHYjP-Hd6-RvETXACJSYsXRQ4iZs1Nt2CpTgY5-MufkZMSQFF0ouviI_wI4DrGEEgnHuTulD5uZ12r7a1APi19/s1600-h/STILL.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAUC802d8DY5Bj3GWj5p5eFljf3PgQqLt4VHbMp9wrPiEBMoS3g4c3oKHYjP-Hd6-RvETXACJSYsXRQ4iZs1Nt2CpTgY5-MufkZMSQFF0ouviI_wI4DrGEEgnHuTulD5uZ12r7a1APi19/s400/STILL.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323137185839674482" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >PLACES I LIKE TO GO, AGAIN AND AGAIN</span></span><br /><br />Digha is the place i love to go again and again.. For those who dont know, this place is a sea side town, on the coast of Bay of Bengal, in West Bengal.. Its feels great to spend a weekend over here, and let the breeze run through your hair.. Amen..<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJQ4nYEe5T_l_H2rFxUqEfErTak3GSuUzWfFzuGTtZfzWHrx73J0Ovhati46e8vs6aFwoU32ZFtz8AlNBimek_r21ba9KYq-_Gg1kgyRaGZsRAxA8rOc5tYzP4k91DWfgnfuCeZZhLNzcQ/s1600-h/Images_anirban.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJQ4nYEe5T_l_H2rFxUqEfErTak3GSuUzWfFzuGTtZfzWHrx73J0Ovhati46e8vs6aFwoU32ZFtz8AlNBimek_r21ba9KYq-_Gg1kgyRaGZsRAxA8rOc5tYzP4k91DWfgnfuCeZZhLNzcQ/s400/Images_anirban.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323139122590459138" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiskDwYJKpUuhj0xnUGT4kYV3nbJmK_WMcC8H29cSSGUfOig1_60AXR0BbxEt3amTXY6bPd5JMAxlOp7u-EJNeNk7YJVkhm795OcaR1GqW59rK7yeO-edXX8yYig5KdwAqoEtSTnFBhGteV/s1600-h/Digha+II.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiskDwYJKpUuhj0xnUGT4kYV3nbJmK_WMcC8H29cSSGUfOig1_60AXR0BbxEt3amTXY6bPd5JMAxlOp7u-EJNeNk7YJVkhm795OcaR1GqW59rK7yeO-edXX8yYig5KdwAqoEtSTnFBhGteV/s400/Digha+II.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323139322249998802" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">WITH FRIENDS OF TIME UNKNOWN</span></span><br /><br />Very few people have their childhood friends, still with them.. I am a damn lucky one..<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNYATpNAHAalMEC1mW5el_z216Bp7bs8PbVBeZPyHPlqR3OWLQKN4sYXsaB96rqHxh3nqIXYO8mi8beVZT9OYEOLgiTMan0ncsseG11kqtD-acC6NVUifi2EMzdRBApR8wAnEhvNXZUEtz/s1600-h/TTFriends.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNYATpNAHAalMEC1mW5el_z216Bp7bs8PbVBeZPyHPlqR3OWLQKN4sYXsaB96rqHxh3nqIXYO8mi8beVZT9OYEOLgiTMan0ncsseG11kqtD-acC6NVUifi2EMzdRBApR8wAnEhvNXZUEtz/s400/TTFriends.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323140241491989682" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:180%;">WHEN NATURE SPEAKS<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);font-size:100%;" >Just shut up and listen !!!!!</span><br /><br /></span></span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKoGx47iFyPHPSZW7oEdB9odXZzuyzm6-LmHO29gQwJWNxnLOYrc07HgybOrfvhjFxOa8Ze-LEEb_au4M-auJupKgvNI5XlKXxTLw-uZ8HvrDYh3EWinhAS33ysqh981y4HF6dEMOklW4K/s1600-h/STILL1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKoGx47iFyPHPSZW7oEdB9odXZzuyzm6-LmHO29gQwJWNxnLOYrc07HgybOrfvhjFxOa8Ze-LEEb_au4M-auJupKgvNI5XlKXxTLw-uZ8HvrDYh3EWinhAS33ysqh981y4HF6dEMOklW4K/s400/STILL1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323140858595503378" border="0" /></a>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-10331147528445335292009-03-14T00:00:00.009+05:302009-05-12T16:25:30.171+05:30<h3 style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);font-family:webdings;" class="smller"><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></h3><h1>I am Soul</h1> <span style="font-size:100%;"><b style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Hear day and night that you are that Soul. Repeat it to yourselves day and night till it enters into your very veins, till it tingles in every drop of blood, till it is in your flesh and bone. Let the whole body be full of that one ideal, "I am the birth less, the deathless, the blissful, the omniscient, the omnipotent, ever-glorious Soul." Think on it day and night; think on it till it becomes part and parcel of your life. Meditate upon it... All your actions will be magnified, transformed, deified, by the very power of thought. If matter is powerful, thought is omnipotent. Bring this thought to bear upon your life, fill yourselves with the thought of your mightiness, your majesty and your glory.<br /><br />These conceptions of Vedanta must come out, must remain not only in the forest, not only in the cave, but they must come out to work at the bar and the bench, in the pulpit, and in the cottage of the poor man, with the fishermen that are catching fish, and with the students that are studying... If the fisherman thinks that he is the Spirit, he will be a better fisherman; if the student thinks that he is the Spirit, he will be a better student. If the lawyer thinks that he is the Spirit, he will be a better lawyer, and so on...<br /> </b><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />----- </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:85%;">Swami Vivekananda</span></span><br /></span></span>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-87706597817689501802009-03-13T20:29:00.011+05:302020-02-29T23:24:44.571+05:30Courting New Impressions<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The traditional philosopher would urge not to change yourself with time.. But realistically, is it possible?? I think not.. A world of countless individuals, changing all the time, proposing new theories, exploring the unexplored, inventing the unimaginable. Sitting amid, how is it not possible to harbor new ideas, new thoughts, new impressions???</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I still remember the day i got my first and only (till date) offer letter. I had so many ideas, so many thoughts, so many wishes run through my mind in those few seconds. Life seemed to be complete. But again, i was yet to confront the blitzkrieg. Now i come face to face with the vagary of life, engaged in a slug fest. The brutal truth "life is not a bed of roses" is evident now. Now i have totally new sets of ideas about my life:</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:courier new;" >the worst is yet to come.</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Sitting in the comfort zone of my sweet little home is making me uncomfortable. An idle brain is cultivating moronic signatures in me. Passing days are making me more and more lazy, both mentally and physically. But even in these tough times, some events has led to the metempsychosis of my hopes. I have started to</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 0);font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">court new impressions</span></span><span style="font-family:courier new;">,</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">again!! An impression of a better time, an impression of a better life.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Let us divert from here and take a look upon the people around me. Situations coerce us to have new impressions about those who were a cause of concern for us. Alas!! Some are not any more. Times have changed, so has they, so have i. Nothing is stagnant over here. Time flows in its own jaunty attitude. But the morons like me get baffled. We dont realize the right time to move on. Some precious time of our small little lives get wasted understanding the harsh truth:</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" > <span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-size:130%;" >people around us also court new impressions.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So here we go. So does the world. We all change. Changes are necessary. They teach us some valuable lessons of life, some lessons that leave on us enduring impressions, and even alters the rattling flow of our lives. Sometimes we waste a precious winter in the hope of enjoying the next. There is nothing we can gain by remaining imbecile. It is time when i start</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:courier new;">courting new impressions,</span> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">instead of waiting for others to do the same.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:times new roman;" >"Stand up, be bold, be strong. Take the whole responsibility on your own shoulders, and know that you are the creator of your own destiny. All the strength and succor you want is within yourselves. Therefore, make your own future."</span>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-306629946130715232009-01-17T00:21:00.000+05:302009-01-17T00:45:01.142+05:30I had a dream... Ya, that's a past tense!!How much pessimistic the caption may look like, how much poignant it may seem, to me it's <span style="font-weight: bold;">the sinking</span> star. Again, <span style="font-weight: bold;">"sinking star" <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span>may sound pessimist. But does a sinking star really sinks? Nope it doesn't. It stays right above our head, all the time.<br /><br />Actually, the caption is very much realistic, with a bit of optimism. <span style="font-weight: bold;">I had a dream.</span> I really had a dream when i was in class 10. Then again i had another replacing the one i had. All because it was fulfilled. Then again when i was in college, i again had one. Again it was replaced by a newer one. So it goes on this way. "The old order changeth yeilding place to the new". Life should move on.<br /><br />Life is an act of scudding. And we are the runners. There is no place for 2nd over here. So we all need to win. So do i. But is it possible for everyone to win? Indeed it is. I am not running a race against anybody. Rather i am doing so against myself. A race to beat the previous record. As long as i can, i win. The moment i falter, i go back a few kilometers. The only way to win is have new goals. Rather new dreams i should say. So <span style="font-weight: bold;">I had a dream.</span><br /><br />I am dreaming of another now. I love to dream. And i shall always dream. I dream, therefore i exist. Actually, it is in our hands to succeed in life. It is our present that gives birth to the future. We dream at present. We succeed in the future.Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-49418253445847112442008-10-04T18:22:00.000+05:302008-10-04T19:07:32.208+05:30Durga Puja.... It's not a festival, it's a religion<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6HJylPxhEmRLVSdSmr0qYfrqFhgOEfwdrua5bLMXvgM0xBgEOGVmhjQHHv3dJkpzEVUTAfeovzUuhNA5WrZY5Fw4fPvNi2wetHhPFmWtuxgjeL2Z2AcBkRJEmPJoF_nIe8Q2BubR_Nt8/s1600-h/durgapuja01_big.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6HJylPxhEmRLVSdSmr0qYfrqFhgOEfwdrua5bLMXvgM0xBgEOGVmhjQHHv3dJkpzEVUTAfeovzUuhNA5WrZY5Fw4fPvNi2wetHhPFmWtuxgjeL2Z2AcBkRJEmPJoF_nIe8Q2BubR_Nt8/s400/durgapuja01_big.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253289678098615154" /></a><br /><div>Perhaps the biggest time in the life of a general Bengali comes every year during the Pujas. No matter where they stay, no one wants to miss the debonair of the pujas. Also known as <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">Durgotsab</span>, the goddess <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">Durga</span> is worshiped with all grandeur. It refers to all the six days observed as <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">Mahalaya, Sasthi, Maha Saptami, Maha Ashtami, Maha Nabami </span>and<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "> Bijoya Dashami.</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">Mahalaya</span> marks the end of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">Pitri Pokkho </span>("Fortnight of the forefathers")<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">and the beginning</span> of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">Debi Pokkho </span>("Fortnight of Goddess").<div><br /></div><div>It's a five day annual holiday here during the pujas. Not only it is the biggest Hindu festival in this state, but also the most significant socio-cultural event. The five days of the pujas, starting from <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">Sasthi</span>, accounts for non-stop leg paining scouting of this city. Apart from West Bengal, Durga Puja is also celebrated in many other states of India including Jammu and Kashmir. It is also a major festival in Nepal and Bangladesh.</div><div><br /></div><div>Pandals and idols inspired by a particular theme has been the hallmark of Sarbojonin or community pujas in Kolkata since the early 1990s. Generally a particular theme is incorporated in the pandals. Popular themes include the early Egyptian culture or the Messopotamian culture. Contemporary themes like Harry Potter or the Titanic has also found its spot. Again pandals are made similar to different ancient temples. </div><div><br /></div><div>Many Bengali films, albums or books are released to coincide with the Puja. The government gives a fortnight of holidays during the pujas. The time is used in various ways. Many travel various places in India or abroad. But most people like to spend the time in <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">Adda</span> at restaurants or in a puja pandal. Pandal hopping is also a great way to spend time during the pujas. TV and radio channels telecast pujas. Many channels dedicate their full time for the pujas. Various magazines are released during the pujas which highlight the works various upcoming writers. </div><div><br /></div><div>Durga Puja is in the blood of every Bengalis. Not only the Bengalis, people of all community and religion celebrate this time. Its a new religion all together.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-KlwCcR0Of1q-mG9W1VaDg6u-rg3r_GalHUzO5ybV4-1NT6HGXs2JXjthRtlQTG6ipo3dqr3MQTXJ740vZ4y_2ahXl6Zn_AGYPZKLUM27PIskQJ-QQGKX1yh210cQ1vZKHFyZmrznzgoI/s1600-h/durga_2005.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-KlwCcR0Of1q-mG9W1VaDg6u-rg3r_GalHUzO5ybV4-1NT6HGXs2JXjthRtlQTG6ipo3dqr3MQTXJ740vZ4y_2ahXl6Zn_AGYPZKLUM27PIskQJ-QQGKX1yh210cQ1vZKHFyZmrznzgoI/s400/durga_2005.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253289679276133506" /></a><br /><br /></div></div>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-74955983749660615052008-09-22T22:36:00.007+05:302009-05-17T10:13:39.950+05:30Room for Reconciliation...Let us Live<div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:verdana;" class="Apple-style-span" ><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >Aakash woke up at his father's howling about the government's lack of console for the poor farmers. His mother, a simple housewife and very indifferent towards turpitude politics, just like Aakash, barely listened. But his father's grievances wouldn't stop. It was around 9:15. Shit!!! How many nights he had thought that the next morning he would wake up early and go for some jogging. But again and again he has failed himself. He has become too lazy!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >He switched on his Nokia 6070 (all dat his dad could give out of his not too good, nor too bad job). That is the first thing he did every morning, always expecting an sms, not particularly from someone though. Although he is not so fond of smsing these days, but this small little anticipation every morning he would never compromise. He liked small joyful moments. It made him happy to live small moments of life. He is like this. This is Aakash, who lives simple and always hopes he could continue like dat all through.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" ><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">"Have you seen that the government has declared a clandestine package for the farmers instead of returning their land?" </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">his dad asked him.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </span></span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" ><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">No way could have Aakash seen it. He woke up just 2 mins ago! He is still in his dreams, trying to remember what he saw. He never remembered one, unless its a nightmare.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">"No dad. Please pass me the paper."</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> was his humble reply. He always preferred reading the newspaper before going to brush. It was another moment that Aakash always savored.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">These days the newspaper has got nothing to publish apart from some cataclysmic political news, </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">thought Aakah. His mind instantly went back to the famous line of Mr. Kalam, </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">"Why the media here is so negative?"</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Its true,</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> thought Aakash, but there is nothing that he can do. He is a common people. </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">And this state offers no provision for the common people. <span style="font-style: italic;">If the case had been so then there would have not been any rallies, bandhs and all other malicious practice that the government calls as the voice of common people. People wouldn't have to bribe to get any job done. There wouldn't have been so many injustice done to the society. </span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Aakash's reflections were broken at his father's voice asking his mother to give him his breakfast. It is 9:30. </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Dad has to leave for office</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">, thought Aakash.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Aakash delved back once more into the newspaper to find something interesting. His current interest was to read aka memorize all the happenings of the Large Hadron Collider and </span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >the Barclays. His interest in cricket has diffused in the air after all the politics that has engulfed the BCCI. Again politics!!! Aaksh hated it more than anything.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >"Did u see what this stupid Government is doing with the poor farmers? They have declared a package. Its ending time for this government. They will be doomed in the next election. The opposing party is fighting for the farmers. They will surely get the poor what they want, i.e., land.<span style="font-style: italic;">"</span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >, his father remarked while eating. </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" ><br />Do the people really wanted their land back? Or did the opposing leader want to increase the vote bank?</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >, thought Aakash. He didn't say anything except a </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >"Hmm"</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >What is the government doing? They are confiscating the livelihood of thousands. And what good the opposing party is doing? Are they really fighting for the poor? Or are they just busy to get their selfish wants done. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >Aakash thought, the open newspaper still in front of him. The clock showed 9:40. But he didn't see it. He didn't see his father's angry glances at him for getting up late. He was deeply involved in his thoughts. </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" ><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Our country is a diversified one. We had all written an essay on Unity in Diversity at St. Anthony's. But where are the tiniest signature of it? There ought to be problems, quarrels, difference in ideas in such a big country. Even husband-wife, boyfriend-girlfriend, friends have quarrels among themselves. They have different ideas, different philosophies of life. No two person can be same. But all their quarrels ultimately end after sometime. This is all because they have room for reconciliation for their loved ones. Even two male chimpanzee kiss each other on their lips after they had fought over food, space or mate. Are the Indian politicians' ratings is lower than chimps? Even chimps have room for reconciliation. But these egoist giants dont. Nor they will tolerate if someone else wanted to make room for the same. They dont love their country. They dont love their people. They dont love themselves. The only thing they love is power, ego and corruption. We, the common people, suffer the most when these sick people practice </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">matsynaya</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">. Where is the room for us to live?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">"Brush ur teeth, Aakash! You are getting late for breakfast!" </span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >Mom's angry call brought him back to his room. The only room for the three people in his family. But his room had space for reconciliation. That is why he has found paradise here. Ooops! Its nearly 10:00. Aakash will never change unless he gets his joining. He is profoundly bored staying at home. And more so at all the tragic trauma that is going through West Bengal. Hopefully it would end soon. But now he has to get out of bed. He also has to get his fingers accustomed at the Legendary Level of FIFA08. He is still not wining games at this level. </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">My</span> condition at FIFA is somewhat similar to the state's current condition, </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" >thought Aakash...</span></span><br /></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></div><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIv6hI04B_IhjSEbdlpHCK52MU9xll2cjc5qSHnxJxXSQRpwln5WslRjpc5kRj25_28qtHgxbSdDq4zClLrheyp1YJs5pkYdi6obN8Ot5zERNJAYVeZLhTHABk12muiA4CtY4VoeJ4KSa/s1600-h/65.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIv6hI04B_IhjSEbdlpHCK52MU9xll2cjc5qSHnxJxXSQRpwln5WslRjpc5kRj25_28qtHgxbSdDq4zClLrheyp1YJs5pkYdi6obN8Ot5zERNJAYVeZLhTHABk12muiA4CtY4VoeJ4KSa/s320/65.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250014020896601906" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" ><br /></span>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-43652857648534137892008-06-18T23:11:00.000+05:302008-06-19T00:21:31.667+05:30Sustainable Development..!!! Are we ready for it??First, what is <span style="font-weight: bold;">Sustainable Development</span>? The WBUT engg students will not get a prize for answering this correctly... <span style="font-weight: bold;">Values and Ethics </span>has taught us... (Thought there had been a bit more of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Cellular Communication </span>I would have valued it more!!! Again is it ethical to teach such a subject against the wish of ours??) Coming back 2 my ans: <b><strong class="selflink">Sustainable development</strong></b> is a pattern of resource use that aims to meet human needs while preserving the environment so that these needs can be met not only in the present, but in the indefinite future. The term was used by the Brundtland Commision which coined what has become the most often-quoted definition of sustainable development as development that "meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs." .....<span style="font-weight: bold;">pufff</span>.... In one word, it is the use of our non-renewable natural resources as per our needs... Dont (u dare) to use more than u need..!!!! But it is not so hilarious as i m trying to make it!!!<br /><br /><br />Why do we use non-renewable resources? The biggest requirement is power generation... How can we survive in dis scorching summer heat without A.C. ?? But who is responsible for the vehemence of our nearest star?? <span style="font-weight: bold;">NON-RENEWABLE NATURAL RESOURCES</span> is the answer!!!!! But how conventional energy resources, that is meant to make our lives comfortable, is pushing us towards catastrophe??? Probably the biggest concern with conventional energy resource is the amount of pollutant that is released into the atmosphere.... Starting from thermal power generation plants to use of petrol and diesel for conveyance, pollutants are being released into every alleys of our dear troposphere.... Sulfur dioxide, oxides of nitrogen (which are used in making pesticides), CFCs and what not, are what we breathe every moment.... Can u imagine inhaling Chlorine gas which is used to kill insects!!!! Why not shall i inhale chlorine?? It will kill the insects in me..!!! Yeah dats what mother nature wants from us... Kill the insects in us... Stop wastage and aim for a sustainable development.... But ar we ready for such a process??? Lets examine :-<br /><br />If we stop using coal for thermal power generation, then we have to live in darkness..!!!! So whats the alternative??? Alas, we cannot see it in front of our eyes.... The greatest source of energy for the earth is the sun... So why aren't we using solar energy to generate power?? We are gifted with sky high himalays where small turbulent streams flows with utter dignity.... So why aren't we using their energy to meet our need??? And there is the majestic Wind, always blowing is harmony.... Doesnt it have the power to rotate the wheels of a windmill??? The answer is YES!!!! We have also uncovered the alternative to conventional energy resources.... But are we using them to their fullest??? NO we are not.... Renewable energy resources havnt got much impetus.... How many people know that energy can also be generated using the inner heat of the Earth??? It is called the Geo-Thermal energy.... So why the government not doing anything to use this alternative resource, which is 100% pollution free??? Or is it that they dont know it??!!!!<br /><br />No, the government knows it... But it is not being implemented on a large scale... But why??? Oh!! forget it.... We were discussing about sustainable development.... So are we ready for it??? The so called "patriot Indians" will say yes... But will they switch off their bedroom's light when they go to the drawing room?? Will they stop their car's engine when struck in a traffic jam?? Will they stop blowing they bloody horns near a hospital?? Who cares.... They are our leaders... They are the ones to take us towards light (dats why they dont switch them off nor shut their car's engine, coz dey are also in a hurry!!!!)... And what do we, the common people, do??? We wash our staircase with corporation water (whence people are killing people for it), but do least care to collect the rainwater for the same purpose..!!! We play our home theater at max to make our neighbour jealous.... We smoke inside a cafeteria to portray our extra cool attitude and impress the nearest smooth legged girl....Still we will stand tall, whenever we can, and give stupendous lectures about Global Warming and its causes (just as i m doing now..!!!).... And what about the poor people..... How much do dey know or do to achieve sustainable development??? Lets not discuss it..... In a sentence: <span style="font-weight: bold;">WE ARE NOT READY FOR A SUSTAINABLE DEVELOPMENT....<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><br /></span>People, wake up.... Maybe we dont know the technology to use renewable natural resources properly... But i do believe that we have the capability to know it.... We have the capability to use it better than anybody... And we genuinely need it.... We need it to save our world... We need to improve our nation.... We need it for a better India....<br /><br /><span style=""><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><br /><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span>Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6225224576121923562.post-16486047943782508652008-06-18T22:19:00.000+05:302008-06-18T22:52:27.541+05:30<p><b><span style="font-size:6;">* The President of India DR. A. P. J. Abdul Kalam 's Speech in Hyderabad . *</span></b> </p> <p><br />Why is the media here so negative? Why are we in India so embarrassed to recognize our own strengths, our Achievements? We are such a great nation. We have so many amazing success<br />Stories but we refuse to acknowledge them. Why? We are the first in milk production.<br />We are number one in Remote sensing satellites. We are the second largest producer of wheat.<br />We are the second largest producer of rice. Look at Dr. Sudarshan , he has transferred the tribal village into a Self-sustaining, self-driving unit. There are millions of such achievements<br />But our media is only obsessed in the bad news and failures and disasters. I was in Tel Aviv once and I was reading the Israeli newspaper. It was the day after a lot of attacks and bombardments and deaths had taken place. The Hamas had struck. But the front page of the newspaper had the picture of a Jewish gentleman who in five years had transformed his desert into an orchid and a granary. It was this inspiring picture that everyone woke up to... The gory details of killings, bombardments, deaths, were inside in the newspaper, buried among other news. </p> <p><br /></p> <p>In India we only read about death, sickness, terrorism, crime. Why are we so <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">NEGATIVE</span>? Another question: Why are we, as a nation so obsessed with foreign things? We want foreign T.Vs, we want foreign shirts. We want foreign technology. Why this obsession with everything imported. Do we not realize that self-respect comes with self-reliance? I was in Hyderabad giving this lecture, when a 14 year old girl asked me for my autograph. I asked her what her goal in life is. She replied: <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">I want to live in a developed India </span>. For her, you and I will have to build this developed India . You must proclaim. India is not an under-developed nation; it is a highly developed nation. Do you Have 10 minutes? Allow me to come back with a vengeance. </p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;">Got 10 minutes for your country? If yes, then read; otherwise, choice is yours: </p><p><span style="font-weight: bold;">(But what the HELL m i doing? Just showcasing our former president's speech for all to read!! Why not m i doing something?)</span><br /></p> <p><span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> (<span style="font-style: italic;">read we)</span> say that our government is inefficient.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> say that our laws are too old.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> say that the municipality does not pick up the garbage.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> say that the phones don't work, the railways are a joke, the airline is the worst in the world, mails never reach their destination.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> say that our country has been fed to the dogs and is the absolute pits.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> say, say and say. What do<span style="font-weight: bold;"> I</span> do about it?<br /></p><p>Take a person on his way to Singapore . Give him a name - <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span>. Give him a<br />Face - <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span>. <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> walk out of the airport and i m at my international best. In Singapore <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> don't throw cigarette butts on the roads or eat in the stores. <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> m as proud of their underground links as they are. <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> pay $5 (approx. Rs. 60) to drive through Orchard Road between 5 PM and 8 PM. <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> come back to the parking lot to punch my parking ticket if <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> had over stayed in a restaurant or a shopping mall irrespective of my status identity... In Singapore <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> don't say anything, <span style="font-weight: bold;">DO I? I</span> wouldn't dare to eat in public during Ramadan in Dubai . <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> would not dare to go out without my head covered in Jeddah . <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> would not dare to buy an employee of the telephone exchange in London at 10 pounds ( Rs.650) a month to see to it that my STD and ISD calls are billed to c someone else.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> I</span> would not dare to speed beyond 55 mph (88 km/h) in Washington and then tell the traffic cop, <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">'Jaanta hai main kaun hoon?</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">I</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> am so and so's son.. </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Take your two bucks and get lost.'</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> wouldn't chuck an empty coconut shell anywhere other than the garbage pail on the beaches in Australia and New Zealand . Why don't <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> spit Paan on the streets of Tokyo ? Why don't <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> use examination jockeys or buy fake certificates in Boston ??? <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> can respect and conform to a foreign system in other countries but cannot in my own. <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> who will throw papers and<br />cigarettes on the road the moment <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> touch Indian ground. If <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> can be an involved and appreciative citizen in an alien country, why cannot <span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span> be the same here in India ?</p><p><br /></p> <p>Once in an interview, the famous Ex-municipal commissioner of Bombay , Mr. Tinaikar , had a point to make. <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">'Rich people's dogs are walked on the streets to leave their affluent droppings all over the place,'</span> he said. <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">'And then the same people turn around to criticize and blame the </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">authorities for inefficiency and dirty pavements. What do they expect the </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">officers to do? Go down with a broom every time their dog feels the pressure </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">in his bowels? In America every dog owner has to clean up after his pet has done the job. Same in Japan. Will the Indian citizen do that here?'</span> He's right. We go to the polls to choose a government and after that forfeit all responsibility. We sit back wanting to be pampered and expect the government to do everything for us whilst our contribution is totally negative. We expect the government to clean up but we are not going to stop chucking garbage all over the place nor are we going to stop to pick a up a stray piece of paper and throw it in the bin. We expect the railways to provide clean bathrooms but we are not going to learn the proper use of bathrooms. We want Indian Airlines and Air India to provide the best of food and toiletries but we are not going to stop pilfering at the least opportunity. This applies even to the staff who is known not to pass on the service to the public. When it comes to burning social issues like those related to women, dowry, girl child! and others, we make loud drawing room protestations and continue to do the reverse at home. Our excuse? <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">'It's the whole system which has to change, how will it matter if I alone forego my</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">sons' rights to a dowry.'</span> So who's going to change the system? What does a system consist of? Very conveniently for us it consists of our neighbours, other households, other cities, other communities and the government. But definitely not me and YOU. When it comes to us actually<br />making a positive contribution to the system we lock ourselves along with our families into a safe cocoon and look into the distance at countries far away and wait for a Mr.Clean to come along & work miracles for us with a majestic sweep of his hand or we leave the country and run away. Like lazy cowards hounded by our fears we run to America to bask in their glory and praise their system. When New York becomes insecure we run to England . When England experiences unemployment, we take the next flight out to the Gulf. When the Gulf is war struck, we demand to be rescued and brought home by the Indian government. Everybody is out to abuse and rape<br />the country. Nobody thinks of feeding the system.. Our conscience is<br />mortgaged to money. </p> <p>Dear my Indian brothers and sisters, the article is highly thought inductive, calls for a great deal of introspection and pricks one's conscience too....<br /></p>Lets do what India needs from us. I know its tough and full of troubles... But as Swami Vivekananda said:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">IF U DIDNT FACE ANY HURDLES TODAY THEN KNOW THAT U R IN THE WRONG PATH</span><br /><br />(<span style="font-style: italic;">This is not my original composition.... I thought that I should share this with all... So I did it..</span>)Passion to make a Difference..!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/00379534960771683624noreply@blogger.com0